


The Baker And The Beast

by ranchelle



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Abandonment Issues, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Baker Hunk, Cuddling, Engineer Hunk, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Galra Keith (Voltron), Heith - Freeform, Hunk Appreciation Big Bang 2018, Keith's Shack, M/M, Magic, Voltron au, beauty and the beast vibes, emo keith, fluffy ears and tail, injuries but not graphic, maybe some fluffy kisses, mention of keith's parents
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-03
Updated: 2018-08-03
Packaged: 2019-06-21 03:54:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15549039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ranchelle/pseuds/ranchelle
Summary: Hunk’s plan of opening his bakery is pushed back when he and his friends manage to come across and rescue Shiro, who escaped from the Galra. He leads them to an abandoned house where another survivor he escaped with is trapped in.After messing around with the magic surrounding the house, Hunk finds himself stuck with Shiro’s reclusive friend and finds his plans to open his bakery further delayed, no thanks to Lance and Pidge.Hunk’s not going to let something minor like being trapped in a house with a Galra in the middle of nowhere stop him from baking. He can, and he willstress-bakeif he wants to.





	The Baker And The Beast

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [Hunk Appreciation Bang!](https://hunkbigbang.tumblr.com/)  
> Many thanks to the mods of the event and Mikiri-san.  
> Also much thanks to my artist [Fooxyou](https://thespiritofeon.tumblr.com/) for staying up late with me and all being encouraging! XD  
> I've put their art and a link to their post in my end notes, so check it out! :D

 

"Stop that."

The group of bullies turn their attention to the newcomer and Hunk peeks through his fingers to see who's come to his rescue.

These boys haven't outright attacked him, but they've been jabbing and teasing him relentlessly for the past week. Lance usually comes to his rescue by making up an excuse and quickly dragging Hunk off somewhere. He doesn't hold out any hope to be saved since these bullies are smart enough to always pick on him when no one's around.

"Or you'll do what?" taunts the leader of the bullies.

The young man, a good half head shorter than the leader, simply glares.

"Isn't that crazy Keith?" one of the followers recognises the newcomer. "I think we'd better just leave."

"I'm not scared of you just because you get into fights," says the leader, sizing 'Keith' up. "I can beat you up right here. I can pay to get you _assassinated_  and no one would care."

Hunk wrings his hands, stuck between wanting to beg the bullies to stop and wanting to run away.

Keith doesn't say a word in retaliation or defense, and simply punches the leader in the face.

"Fuck!" screams the bully, holding his nose that's starting to bleed.

"He's like a mad dog!" yells one of them. "Run!"

"You're not gonna get away with this!" threatens another.

The leader, holding his face, spits out promises of revenge as he backs off. Keith raises a fist and the bully stumbles on his heels and runs off scared.

"These people shouldn't be soldiers if all they do is talk," growls Keith.

Hunk cowers a bit more. He knows he's not an ideal soldier. He's not even a good one, but the best machine building technology is right here and available to senior recruits.

"You okay?" asks Keith.

"Huh? Yeah," stutters Hunk, unfurling from his crouched position. "But why did you do that? Now they'll keep coming after you instead!"

"It doesn't matter," shrugs Keith.

"Of course it does!" says Hunk, wringing his hands in worry. "You—"

He's interrupted by Lance running his way and waving his hand.

"Hey," says Lance, putting a hand on Hunk's shoulder, trying to sound casual. He looks at Keith and Hunk, trying to assess the situation. Seeing Keith's nonchalant face and Hunk's frown, he points a finger at Keith.

"If you pick on Hunk again, I'm telling Iverson," threatens Lance. "You've got a record of fighting, and it won't take much for you to get kicked out."

"Lance, stop that!" yelps Hunk, clapping a hand over Lance's mouth. "He didn't do anything. He saved me!"

“Air,” squeaks Lance as he peels Hunk's large hand off his face and takes deep breaths. Then glares at Keith.

"Gods, I'm so sorry about all this," apologises Hunk.

"It's fine."

"It's not fine at all! Those guys are going to come after you now," says Hunk. "You might get killed!"

"I've got lots of enemies. A few more wouldn't make any difference," shrugs Keith.

"Show-off," mutters Lance.

"Don't worry about it," says Keith, giving them a quick wave as he walked off to the training grounds.

 

* * *

  
  
That was two years ago, and Hunk remembers the first time he's talked to Keith as clear as he remembers what he’s had for dinner last night. He kneads the dough under his palms and rolls it back in a rhythm that feels familiar and soothing. His muscle memory takes over and he finds himself thinking back and wondering where it felt like his life’s going all wrong.

He remembers how Keith always seemed so angry and purposeful when he crossed the courtyard or strode down the hallways, never stopping to talk to anyone—not that Hunk ever had a chance to call out Keith’s name. Keith was like a storm that simply blew past everyone; one that never stayed still and ready to destroy anything in his path.

He noticed how Keith was never seen at meal times. A few times, he saw Keith being challenged by senior cadets who had it all out for him. No matter how unreasonable the task and handicap he was given, he’d never back down, overcoming it almost every time. The juniors like himself were onlookers in the crowd, and Hunk only wished he could stop that and help Keith, but he was just a powerless trainee.

Hunk remembers how their friendship started. It was awkward, with Hunk staying behind waiting for Keith to finish his daily confrontations and trying to follow him. He lost sight of Keith the first few times, but one day, Keith came back for him and beckoned him to follow.

“You shouldn’t do that,” Keith had said, an expression of resignation on his face. “If they see you with me, they’ll target you too.”

“Wait!” Hunk had said. He didn’t know what to do, but Keith was going to leave and he might not get another chance. He needed to find a way to show his gratitude—at least a gift—he stuck his hand into his satchel and grabbed a handful of sweets he and Lance sneaked out to buy the night before. He held out his hands, his precious stash of toffees and chocolates and candied fruit cupped in his palms like an offering.

Keith’s face had lit up in a way he had never seen before, and he could never forget that smile. It was like the boy’s hard edges had melted away, his eyes soft and questioning, as if asking ‘can I?’ and all Hunk could do was stammer and insist Keith take the sweets.

A few days after that, Pidge helped Hunk figure out a game plan. First, Lance had helped them find a small, hidden spot only they could know. Then, Pidge _bumped_  into Keith one day and sneaked a message into his hand to check a hidden shoebox behind one of the seldom used library shelves. Hunk left a message there with a sweet, and from then on, they could send each other messages using that hidden box.

That had been a stroke of genius and Hunk knew he couldn’t have done it without his friends.

He wipes a bead of sweat with the crook of his elbow as he finishes kneading the dough and places it on a tray and lets it sit. He checks the batch he has in the oven, and seeing these have a few minutes to go, he leans back against the counter and takes a breather. He remembers how his passion for pastries began, and it was during his correspondences with Keith.

The Garrison had been busy with their efforts to keep the Galra away from Altean borders, and the training for trainees and recruits alike piled on. Hunk had been split up from his friends as he was put to work with the engineers.

Hunk remembers spending all his free days outside the Garrison learning to bake bread and cakes, oftentimes whipping enough food for all his friends. He’d always leave something for Keith, and it pleased him to see the box emptied the next day, sometimes with a little token in its place. Keith called this box the ‘food cache’ in a message once and the name stuck.

They had done this for almost a year, but there were attacks near the borders from the Galra, a race of fearsome, bloodthirsty beasts who were out to conquer.

Reinforcements and scouts were sent out to quell the attacks. Captain Shiro had led a team of scouts, taking on the dangerous task of sneaking into Galra territory to obtain information. The squad had lost contact a few weeks into the mission and the higher-ups assumed they were caught and killed by the Galra. They hailed Shiro as a hero and quickly moved on to other concerns.

Hunk remembers that the day the Garrison announced Shiro’s disappearance and assumed death was the day the food he left in the cache lay untouched.

And that it was the last he's heard from Keith.

He smells a fragrance turn bitter and sharp and his thoughts jump back to the present. He blubbers ‘no, no’ as he puts on his oven mitts and hastily pulls the tray out. A couple of loaves got burnt, but a few turned out well. He sighs as he lays them out on racks to cool on the counters.

The bell to his bakery rings, a sweet, crisp sound that follows the light breeze in as the door swings open and Lance saunters in.

“We’re not open yet,” chuckles Hunk, sawing a burnt edge off with a knife.

"You should be. Look at this tray of bread all ready to be eaten!” grins Lance. “So, how's it going?"

"Not too good," says Hunk, sighing as he tosses out the sawed-off edges and tries to make presentable the salvaged loaf by cutting it into slices. "The oven doesn't heat up evenly. I guess I should build my own instead."

"Well, you don't have to worry about the rent at least, what with our boss pretty much handing over this place to you for free since he’s too busy with helping at the castle," says Lance, his long fingers sliding in to fish out a freshly cut slice under Hunk’s busy hands. Hunk rolls his eyes but lets it be.

"No offense, but Coran's better at being the princess's advisor than baking."

"Agreed," says Lance, making a face at the memory of Coran's previous attempt resulting in green goo. Sure, it was edible, but that was pretty much all there was to it. He leans a hand on the counter and peers up at Hunk's flour-dusted cheeks.

"You sure you don't want to come back to us?" asks Lance, a crooked smile on his face. "You could do both if you want to, you know. I mean, this place is just a short walk to the castle itself. Coran’s pretty cool to work for, unlike those muscle-heads from the Garrison."

"Nah," says Hunk. He takes a bite of the crust and scribbles down notes on his recipe sheets. "I want to try and get this place up and running by the end of the week."

"Sure," says Lance, taking another slice loaf and chewing on it. "Hey, this reminds me. Didn’t you use to have this pen-pal back at the Garrison who mooched off you? Where did he go? Oh, and his handwriting is a kiddy, curly scrawl. I bet that means he’s ‘ _loopy_ ’."

"First of all, he's not a mooch," says Hunk, shifting the tray of baked bread away from Lance’s reach. Lance gives him a magnificent display of wide eyes and purposefully trembling lips. Hunk sighs and shifts the tray back. "And secondly, you shouldn't judge people by their handwriting because that would mean you're _‘uneven’_ , bro."

"But he was definitely loopy. He got into fights all day for no reason," says Lance as he eyes the nicer looking loaves while settling for what's given. Hunk chuckles and hands him a bit of cheese to spice up the deal.

"He did get into a lot of fights," affirms Hunk. "His name was ‘Keith’ and he was my friend."

“Oh,” says Lance, drawing out the ‘O’. “I remember him. He’s the ass who’s always showing off in arms training in the first year.”

“I’m sure _you_  were the one trying to show off at the time,” says Hunk, shaking his head in exasperation.

Hunk is in the middle of taking out the batch he put in the oven earlier when a short, sandy-haired teen kicks the bakery's door in without so much of a knock. And drops an armful of equipment and magic tools onto the nearest clean counter.

"Hey, these counters are for food prep only," complains Hunk, brows raised in dismay.

"Not cool, Pidge," admonishes Lance, taking the weapons from the counter into his arms and dropping them onto a nearby chair instead.

"No time for that, guys," pants Pidge, bent over with hands on her hips trying to catch her breath. "Get your gear. We’re going to the forest.”

“Why?” asks Hunk.

“We can’t just go with you,” says Lance, gesturing at the tray before him. “I have bread to finish!”

“Hurry up!” scowls Pidge.

“Give us one good reason,” says Lance.

“I found Shiro."

“What!?” screams Lance, all thoughts of food forgotten.

Hunk drops the bread he's holding and gapes. "Shiro, as captain Shiro from the Garrison who went missing a year ago?"

"That's the one," grunts Pidge.

"Where is he?" asks Hunk.

"In the forest. Bring your medicine kit," says Pidge. Now that she's caught her breath and looks less red in the face, she straightens her back and sees the loaves of bread cooling on racks. She grabs a steamy loaf and juggles it in her hands, almost dropping it, pulling out her shirt to catch it. She juts her chin at the equipment she left on the chair, signalling them to carry the stuff for her while she pulls a chunk off the bread in her shirt and chews on it.

"No time to waste! Let's go!" orders Lance. He grabs one of Hunk’s loaves too, holding onto it with his teeth as he shoves Pidge’s stuff into a sack and slings it over his shoulder. He's fast when he wants to be, dashing out of the bakery after Pidge.

"Wait up!" wails Hunk, still going through the contents of his medicine kit. He pulled open a drawer and takes a few more rolls of fresh bandages and throws it in. He has to be thorough, and packs more clean rags and a water filter. He packs in an extra shirt. Maybe two. If someone’s hurt and has blood all over them, a change of clothes is always welcome.

"Hurry up, guys!" comes Pidge's voice from a distance.

Hunk sets down the pack he’s packed in the doorway and runs back to the oven, putting out the fire.

"Just a minute more!" says Hunk, trying to move as fast as he can. He can’t be careless and let the bakery burn down while he's gone.

"It's Shiro!" Lance yells, also from a distance. Hunk catches the sight of him bouncing on his heels. "If he needs our help, we have to go!"

"Coming!" yells Hunk as he picks up the pack and jogs out to join his two friends.  


*  


They follow Pidge into the forest, down little winding paths as she looks at the map she’s marked out. They come into a small clearing where they see a man sitting on the short, sparse, grass, far from the trees and Hunk appreciates the man’s wise strategy of not getting ants in his pants.

The man stands up and dusts the dirt off the back of his ragged cloak with a hand. He looks at the help Pidge brought back and greets them with a nod. “I’m Shiro, and thank you for coming.”

"No problem, Captain!" chirps Lance, coming forward, awe sparkling in his eyes as he stumbles over his words. "I really love, uh, admire, I mean, respect, right, _respect_  your achievements back at the Garrison!"

"I'm not a Garrison captain anymore," says Shiro. "You're not obliged to help me, but I'm thankful."

Hunk notices a dusty brown stained dark in some places on Shiro’s cloak. His entire right side is so tightly wrapped Hunk can’t see his right arm. Shiro leans towards the other side, avoiding any pressure on it as if favouring an injury.

"Are you hurt?" asks Hunk, ready to pull supplies out of his pack.

"If you are, we should get you fixed up first," says Pidge, frowning at same observations Hunk's made.

"I'm fine, these are old wounds," says Shiro, shaking his head. He jerks his chin towards a off-track path. "More importantly, I need you to help my friend who's trapped by the enemy’s magic."

"How did that happen?" asks Pidge, tucking her 'bayard'—a katar-handled short blade armed with various charged spells at her disposals—closer to her.

"Will we have to fight the Galra?" says Hunk, looking around worriedly. "They're big and purple and scary and strong, I don't think I can take them on."

"We took care of the pursuers so there shouldn’t be any on our trail," says Shiro. "They had a druid with them and he managed to cast a trap spell before he died."

"A spell-caster this far out in Altea?" gasps Lance. "If it's a Galra druid, it's really serious. I mean, we’re so near the capital that Galra presence here could mean they’re planning an all out war.”

“We need to let the princess know about this!” says Hunk.

Pidge narrows her eyes, rubbing her chin as she questions Shiro. "You came to me instead of going straight to the Garrison or to the castle for help. Why?”

"Because you’re the only person I know I can trust at the moment," says Shiro.

“Is my brother—is Matt still alive?” demands Pidge.

“I don’t know,” admits Shiro. “We got separated when I led the enemy away from the rest of the squad to give them a chance to escape. Maybe he is.”

Pidge closes her eyes for a moment and chews on her lip in thought, then asks no more.

“All right,” says Pidge.

They follow Shiro, taking hidden paths that twist and turn until they the forest thins out to a larger clearing with a house built on it. It looks a little out of place but they can see how this is well-hidden. Tall trees surrounding it blocks it from view, and the path leading to it is hardly visible unless you were looking for it.

"This looks more like a shack than a house," comments Lance.

"It does look a little old," says Hunk.

As they approach closer, all they see is a house, but Shiro stops two steps from the door and raps his knuckles on the invisible barrier. Slow, lazy ripples of purple fan out from his fingers to reveal a thin dome of magic encasing the house like a giant bubble.

"Looks like Galra magic," says Pidge. She digs out a small gadget from her satchel and tosses it at Hunk, who knows what to do.

“It’s purple so it’s got to be,” says Lance, poking at the barrier repeatedly, playing with how the purple ripples out from where he touches it. It feels a little sponge-like instead of the hard beetle shell texture he was expecting and exclaims his observations out loud, making sure Pidge and Hunk know he’s doing ‘work’.

"I'll check to see if there are weak spots in the energy," says Hunk, walking around the barrier and looking the energy levels the device in his hand is picking up.

"I'll check the other side," says Pidge, holding a similar device and rounding the other side of the house.

"I’ll just...keep watch right here!" chips in Lance. He adjusts the longbow on his back and surveys the surroundings. It’s as if the builders of this house designed it to be hidden away from the world with its location. There’s a feeling about this run-down house that isn’t quite normal, and Lance wonders if it’s haunted or cursed.

"I'll go get something done for a bit," says Shiro, pulling out a shovel from the sack of Pidge’s stuff. Pidge brought it along, which means she knew digging was going to be done.

"Digging for treasure?" says Lance, giving him a bright smile. He wants to impress and help his hero, even if said hero looks pretty run down right now.

"Hiding the bodies," says Shiro, seeing no use in hiding the fact there are a couple of dead Galra not too far from here lying about. “I can’t risk more spies tracking us down.”

"Oh," says Lance. “Do you, uh, need help with that?”

“Well,” says Shiro, and he looks down his right side where his arm is missing. “I could use a hand.”

The fact Shiro has one arm less finally dawns on Lance. With the Galra getting bolder with each day and Shiro’s squad missing and one of his friends trapped in by Galra magic, the severity of the situation dawns on him and he promises Shiro that they are going to give him the help he needs.  


*  


"Found anything?" asks Lance, after they come back from hiding the dead Galra spies. He makes a note of where they’re buried so he can report to Coran and have people find out how the Galra crossed over into Altean territory. Shiro hasn’t mention anything about his mission or what happened to him, but no one wants to ask about that, knowing it is probably painful to bring up. Pidge and Hunk get to work, focusing on just one thing—getting Shiro’s friend out of there.

"There are several weak spots," says Hunk, pointing them out on a diagram he drew on a piece of paper with a pencil he had the foresight to bring. He jabs at a circled spot. "The best place to strike is probably here, near the window."

"With a strong enough counterspell, we might be able to create a hole big enough to break the barrier, or at least for your friend to escape," says Pidge. She turns to Shiro. "We need to let your friend know. Can he hear us from within the barrier?"

"Yes, he can," says Shiro. "But I don't think he's comfortable talking to strangers. Do you mind giving us a moment?"

"We're here to rescue him," says Lance. "So that means we're his rescuers. That hardly makes us strangers."

"Come on, buddy," says Hunk, patting Lance on the shoulder to coax him away from the house. "Maybe he's shy. Or scared."

"Could be traumatised, even. He’s been fighting the Galra, you know," says Pidge, looking at Shiro, then back to Lance.

Lance purses his lips and sulks, letting Hunk bring him away from the house. "Fine. Let's go."  


*  


A while later, Shiro goes to them with the results of his discussion.

"He doesn’t want us to waste our time on him, and he’s pretty stubborn about it," says Shiro, pinching the bridge of his nose in worry. "I need more time to try and talk him out of it."

"We’re not scared of the Galra," says Lance. “I can go ask Coran to have some guards check this area out. He doesn’t need to be scared for us, or for himself.”

"I don't think that's the case," says Shiro. “It feels like he doesn’t want to leave. We’re both tired of being chased, after all. Maybe he feels he’s safer in there than out here.”

Lance glances over at the house. "The safest place has got to be within the city walls. Being in my house has got to be safer than out here. Why would he choose that run-down _shack?"_

"It'll take a while for us to set up the equipment and gather the stuff we need to break the barrier," says Pidge. "We can give it a shot tomorrow, but I doubt we'll succeed on the first try."

"Will your friend be okay waiting that long?" asks Hunk.

"He says there's water but I don't think there's any food," says Shiro, his lips thinned in a grim line. "He looks hurt. We have to hurry."

“You should come back with us for the night,” suggests Lance. “You need to dress those wounds.”

"I'll stay here and keep watch until you come back," says Shiro. Lance looks torn, but follows Hunk back to help prepare.

“We’ll get him out, Shiro,” promises Pidge.  


*  


The next morning, Pidge and Hunk set up the charged crystals over the weakest part of the barrier. They are sleepy but the thrill of dealing with foreign magic motivates them to keep going.

"It's probably going to be pretty reactive, so tell your friend to stand back!" yells Pidge, clapping her hands over her ears. Hunk does the same, stepping away from the fully charged crystals placed under the window. Pidge is thankful the barrier itself is just that—a simple, plain, unfancy barrier that blocks them out like an invisible wall.

She's seen magical barriers far more painful and offensive than this spongey bubble of purple streaks.

The crystals spark dangerously and Shiro and Lance take heed of Pidge's warning and step away.

A loud _crack!_  sounds, but it only as loud as Pidge's yelling. It's a bit of a letdown, and Hunk's shoulders slump as he wonders if the experiment was a failure. He measures the energy level of the barrier and his eyes widen when he sees the levels spiking. The first explosion wasn’t the real thing.

"Run!" yells Hunk, grabbing Pidge's collar and dragging her off into the forest behind them for cover.

"Keith! Get away from the window!" Shiro steps in and shouts to his friend, heedless of his proximity to the crackling crystals. Lance grabs Shiro's cloak and pulls him into the trees to join Pidge.

_BANG!_

The explosion was like a crack of thunder.

Small animals fled and birds flew out of the surrounding trees in surprise.

Pidge slowly removes her hands from her ears. "Did we get it?"

Shiro rushes towards the house, but stops short, his furrowed brows giving way to a slight look of confusion. The wreckage is minimal, the outline of the barrier showing as magic from the exploded crystals ripple through like shockwaves.

"Woah," says Lance as he jogs towards the now shimmering, translucent barrier. The bubble shape seems to be wavering just a little, or it could be a trick of light.

"No, no!" whines Hunk, running towards the house as he sees the small hole the blast made starting to shrink.

Shiro's friend won't be able to get out, but they knew this might not work first time round and had prepared something for it.

"Pidge, the pipe!"

Pidge dashes to her sack of stuff and pulls out a thick, sturdy pipe, tossing it over to Hunk, who’s in position by the window. He catches it and shoves it into the closing hole, slamming his weight into it, pushing it through into the already cracked window. The glass shatters and falls away, allowing the pipe to reach inside the house just before the barrier clamps around it, keeping it in place.

The pipe creaks under the pressure of the barrier’s energy and they all watch on, Hunk fidgeting with his shirt hoping it'll work. Pidge mutters calculations, saying that she's measured everything right and the pipe’s enhanced with enough countermagic and tensile strength to withstand twice the calculated amount of the barrier's energy.

The pipe stops creaking.

The barrier ripples settle into a lazy pattern and it looks like the sturdy bubble it was meant to be.

"It's stabilised," says Hunk, checking his meter, breathing out a sigh of relief. "I think it'll hold."

"Yeah!" cheers Lance, pumping his fist into the air. "We did it!"

“We failed to bring down the barrier completely,” says Pidge. “So technically, Lance, ’we _didn’t it’_.”

Shiro inspects the pipe awkwardly held up by the barrier like a little tube window into the house. He can see clearly into the dim house through the pipe without the barrier blurring his vision. The pipe is as thick as his forearm, large enough for them to pass some supplies through. Pidge really thought of everything.

"By the way," says Lance, his brows knitting together in confusion as he. "Did you say 'Kee' just now? Or was it ‘Kiff’? Is that your friend’s name?"

A growl comes from behind the dusty window. With the glass gone and the wood cracked and splintered from the impact, Hunk thinks the sound feels a little creepy. It doesn’t sound very human. Or it could be a very sick human, Hunk reasons to himself.

Shiro makes an 'oops' face and shrugs. With any luck, no one here knows who Keith is. Keith made it clear before he didn't want to be seen or known by anyone other than Shiro, going as far as to refuse outside help even as Shiro promises him that Pidge could be trusted.

"Hey, you in there," Pidge says, speaking into the pipe and letting her voice travel through loud and clear. "We need to know if you're hurt so we can go get you the right medicine."

"You do sound pretty sick with that rough voice," chirps up Lance, trying to lighten to mood, only to get a snappier growl as a reply from the newly installed 'pipeline'.

"I brought food and some bandages," says Hunk, rummaging his packs for the supplies he packed. Gauging the diameter of the pipe with an eye, he unwraps a loaf of bread he brought along and breaks it up into smaller chunks before wrapping them up again in muslin, shaping it into a thinner bundle. He pushes it through the pipe with his hand and gets it halfway through when he feels the bundle pulled out of his grip, snatched up by the guy who's trapped on the other side.

"Do you have fresh water?" asks Hunk through the pipe. He sticks his ear against the end of the pipe and hears an affirmative hum, followed by the sound of shuffling and some rustling. Something is thrown through the pipe and smacks him in his ear and he jerks away to see a piece of balled up paper fall to his feet. He picks it up and unfolds it.

"What's it say? Is he eternally grateful for your amazing bread?" asks Lance as he sidles over to Hunk and tries to read the messy, curly scrawl on the paper.

"It says 'thanks, but go away'," says Hunk, his lips jutting out in a sad pout.

"That little—" growls Lance, turning to the pipe and planning to give the rude man a piece of his mind.

"Hey," says Shiro, stepping in, holding up his hand to placate Lance. "I'm really grateful for what you've done. I think my friends just needs a little time to come around."

Lance rolls his eyes but they're all here to help Shiro, and that means Shiro gets the final say. Or Pidge, because Pidge’s ideas may be better.

Pidge is squatting on the grass and writing down notes on a pad of paper on her knees, and after a minute of furious scribbling, she gets up and begins to pack away the equipment and crystal shards, as well as samples of the splintered wood from the house that fell outside the barrier. "I'm gonna go back figure out how to open a bigger hole. We should be able to get this done in a few days."

  
*  


"How can you 'lose' pie twice in a row?" says Hunk as he wraps up a few more slices in wax paper, preparing to put them back into Lance's opened bag.

He takes one look at Lance's grinning face and stops short, not letting his painstakingly prepared food fall into the same trap a third time.

"I couldn't help it, my hands just _slipped!_  These are _slippery_  pies!" says Lance, his wide, begging eyes looking comical sitting atop his grin. Hunk can see the crumbs on his lips.

"Nuh-uh, you sloppy pie _thief_ ," says Hunk, wagging his finger at his friend and tucking the cup-sized pies into his own satchel. He grabs a couple of apples and caramel candies he baked this morning, hoping it'll help ease the inevitable apology to Shiro's friend later.

Making an innocent man go hungry because of something so trivial is a punishment he wouldn't wish on even his enemies.

"You're fired from delivery duty. I'm going to do it myself."

"Aww," says Lance, his eyes are anything but sorry as they rove over the candies greedily. Hunk lets out an exasperated sigh and tosses him one, which Lance catches with unrepentant glee.

"By the way, Pidge says if you're taking over the deliveries, you might as well do the legwork for her and do the experimenting thingies with that magical barrier," adds Lance, tossing a notepad with Pidge's instructions over.

"You all set me up," grumbles Hunk. "At this rate, my bakery will never be open."

"Well, I gotta go back to the castle now," says Lance, stretching out like a lazy cat in the sun. "Afternoon's just beginning and we've got to hide the _Captain_  from Allura and Coran."

"Captain?" asks Hunk.

"Codenames," says Lance, a hand on the side of his mouth like it's a secret even though there's no one else around. “Shiro says he doesn’t want anyone to know about him until he gets his friend rescued.”

"Isn't that codename a bit too obvious?"

"Well, it's that, or _Shiro the Hero_."

"That's got his name in it, it will never work."

"I figured," says Lance. "I'll let you know when I think up new codenames. By the way, call me _Sharpshooter_."

"Then I get to be, uh, Tank Puncher Gourmet Chef!"

"Deal, buddy," says Lance, clapping Hunk on the back. _"Tank Puncher Gourmet Chef."_

"It sounds terrible, I take that back," laughs Hunk.

 

* * *

  
  
Keith peers out the window. The barrier's visible, purple occasionally rippling through the slightly translucent magical field surrounding the house. The people Shiro brought back with him yesterday sounded familiar. He probably has seen them around the Garrison before he left.

He sees the shape of the bigger guy approach the house and moves to the side of the broken window, where he can’t be seen from the outside.

"Um, hi," comes the big guy's voice comes through the pipe, hesitant but clear. Keith rests on his haunches, his back leaning against the wall and keeping his ear next to the pipe. "I'm Hunk. I came with Shiro, Pidge and Lance yesterday, remember?"

"So, uh, I brought you breakfast, um, lunch. Maybe it’s dinner because it’s getting late. Gods, I am so sorry," says Hunk. Keith lets out a little huff at that statement, and it seems the big guy catches it and continues, his voice shaky and nervous and he mutters about it being all his friend's Lance's fault that he's late with the food.

Keith catches the wrapped packages rolling out the arm-sized pipe. He's sure Hunk can hear the noisy rustling he's making as he opens it to reveal pie. He brings it to his nose to give it a sniff, and finding it to be chicken, quickly scarfs it down. He's been hungry for days and the bit of bread he got yesterday didn't do much. He's halfway through the second pie when Hunk speaks through the pipe again.

"I'll be outside checking the barrier," comes the voice, "so if there's anything you need, just let me know."

Keith nods, then realises no one can see him. He doesn't trust his voice right now, so he taps on the pipe twice with a knuckle, hoping that gets his point across. He thinks it worked, because an apple and some sweets are shoved through the pipe and bounces off the floorboard next to him.

His head still feels a little heavy and his throat sore. He shivers and gives a sneeze. He guesses he'll have to grab a blanket from the bedroom later to warm himself up. He's glad everything in here still works. The pump in the small, enclosed backyard that's walled in by a small fence and taller trees still works, drawing up clear groundwater. It's lucky the water pump wasn't outside the barrier.

He thinks he should wash his face and get some of the heat out of his ears. Maybe he should check on his wounds and rebandage them now he has more energy after the meal. Last he checked, they didn't look infected, and he hopes that hadn’t changed.

Hunk babbles on from the outside as he conducts tests on the barrier, and Keith finds the sound of Hunk’s words soothing, knowing someone’s here with him in the middle of nowhere.

Keith turns around and brushes the remaining cracked glass and debris out of the way from the cracked window frame. Without the glass in the way, he gets a clear view of the barrier just outside. It feels like he's looking at the outside world through a sheet of water. He reaches over the pipe pokes at the barrier with his fingers and watch lines of purple energy ripple through.

Shiro’s exhausted and stubborn, but these people managed to persuade him to stay at Hunk’s shop and get some rest earlier on.

Knowing Shiro is safe, he finds it in himself to give a lazy smile as he watches the colours of the world filter in through the barrier that is keeping him in and the rest of the world out.

He doesn't feel the need to leave this place yet.

  
*  


Keith jerks awake at the sound of an explosion. He hears flustered voices trying to talk over each other, and Shiro's yelling. He scrambles to his feet and heads for the door where the sound came from. He can't risk Shiro getting hurt again.

"It's too unstable!" comes a higher pitched voice, which he knows to be Shiro's friend, Pidge.

"I have to get him out before the barrier closes!" comes Shiro's voice, hoarse and strained.

"Pidge is right," says another man's voice, who he assumes to be Lance. "We can do this again once we gather the materials. We can't have you both trapped!"

Keith skids across the floor and sees them just outside the crumbling doorway. The barrier is down, but magic sparks across the gaping hole.

"The doorway's gonna collapse!" says Hunk.

"Keith!" yells Shiro as he sees his friend. He stumbles through the doorway, pushing through the cluttered debris on the ground but a chunk of support falls and he doesn't have his right arm to stop it from smacking into the side of his face and shoulder.

The barrier is closing in and Shiro won't make it out if he's trying to come in.

Keith growls, running towards him and pushing him out of the doorway. Shiro clears the doorway and Pidge grabs onto Shiro's remaining arm, keeping him from trying again. He sees blood beginning to well up on the scratched up side of Shiro's face and neck.

The magic rumbles.

"Shit, there's an undetonated one," curses Pidge. A crystal bursts into light, hissing and ready to blow.

"Get out of the way!" yells the lanky young man helping Pidge hold Shiro back.

Keith backs away, but his the back of his ankle trips over the jagged debris and he falls.

Seconds lost, he holds his arms up to shield his head from what's to come as an explosion sounds out.

Instead, he feels thick arms around his torso, lifting him up from the ground, pulling his foot free from the splintered chunks of wood and into the living room away from the collapsing doorway.

When he opens his eyes, he sees the narrow passage now filled to his waist with ruined wood beams and stone, making it impossible to dig and make their way out by the time the barrier completely closes.

"Hunk!" comes Lance's voice. "Are you hurt?"

"Lance, Pidge! I'm okay!" comes Hunk’s voice just above him.

He looks up and sees Hunk’s face above his own, craned towards the doorway above him.

"The barrier's closing, we won't get you out in time," yells Pidge.

"Hunk! Get the pipe!" Lance shouts.

Keith feels the arm wrapped around him let go as Hunk crawls up and pushes to his feet. Pieces of debris fall off his back as he sprints to the window. There are small holes and ripples in the barrier, and he shakily holds the pipe in place so he won't lose the only opening he'll have to the outside.

"I got it," grunts Hunk as he watches the barrier stabilize once more, solidifying around the pipe.

Keith sits up, dusting off the bits of debris off his chest. He got the wind knocked out of him when he got slammed to the ground but he's hardly scratched, shielded from the worst of it by Hunk. He moves his ankle to test it and groans, knowing he’s twisted it.

He looks at the blocked doorway and then turns to the window at the side of the house, watching Hunk knock on the now unmoving pipe to check if it holds. He hears voices coming through the pipe asking after Hunk’s safety.

"I'm fine, guys," wheezes Hunk, facing the pipe. "Looks like our calculations were wrong."

"Yeah," sighs Pidge. "I'm glad you're okay, though, cos it looks like you're gonna be stuck there for a while. If the energy output needed to blow a hole open in the barrier includes blowing up the house, then we've got a _lot_  of measuring to do."

"Or we'll have to find an alternate solution that doesn't involve blowing things up," says Lance, coughing up the dust still clogged in his throat from the explosion.

"I’m going back to check my calculations. I’ll have Lance bring you supplies later," says Pidge. "Come on, Lance, let's go."

“Hey, stop volunteering me without my permission,” says Lance, but he turns to the pipe and reassures Hunk he’ll be back with supplies soon.  
Shiro dawdles, torn between leaving and staying. There’s nothing he can do here, and he feels helpless.

Hunk is checking the doorway, completely ignoring Keith’s presence as he rushes about to make sure the house’s structure isn’t compromised after the collapse of the doorway. Keith understands that knowing the house isn’t going to collapse on them is important, and lets Hunk do what he wants.

The sun is setting, the yellow glow streaming in from the window tinted with a hint of purple. Keith watches Shiro pace outside the barrier near the window, the details of the former captain’s face blurred by the slightly rippling barrier.

"Go back with them, Shiro," says Keith, softly.  
  


* * *

 

Hunk checks on the pillars and beams of the house, and after seeing for himself that they are sturdy and the house isn’t going to collapse on him anytime soon, relaxes.

He’s checked every room, and knows that while the place isn't big, it is pretty liveable for an abandoned house in the woods. There’s with a washroom at the back near the kitchen and backyard. He sees remains of what was probably a chicken coop in the corner of the backyard. A short fence and tall trees wall the small yard in, making it look like a contained, enclosed world of its own.

There’s a single bedroom across the window he checked out earlier on. There’s a bed and a chest of things. There’s small cupboard and dresser even, which he felt were too private for him to look in. A worn-out bedsheet is hung over the bedroom window as a makeshift curtain.

The living space is spacious and uncluttered, with a worktable and two chairs on one side and perhaps doubled as an eating space. The only things that look remotely not trying to just meet the bare minimum of house furniture are a wall shelf with tools and boxes, and a couch with a threadbare cushion on it.

It looks like it almost might have been cosy...a long time ago, thinks Hunk.

Shiro's mysterious friend is now curled up in a blanket on that one couch he took note of earlier, and although Hunk wants to check if the guy’s injured, he thinks it’s better to wait until the guy wakes up.

Pidge comes back soon with a small amount of food and supplies, hastily shoving them down the pipe. Hunk grimaces at the packs of military rations and medicine. He knows these are the only food that won't go bad for days but he'd really prefer a nice hot roll.

Coran somehow found out about Shiro’s reappearance and while he promised to keep it from the Garrison, he insisted that the princess herself be privately informed. Pidge had to sneak out in the middle of a heated discussion between Allura and Shiro. Allura wants to send soldiers to protect Shiro’s friend, but Shiro’s adamant about keeping the house secret. Coran sees valid points on both sides, and wants Pidge and Lance to explain what they plan to do.

Lance is handling it but Pidge will need to make a full report in a moment, so she can’t stay to check in with Hunk. Hunk reassures her he’s fine and she promises to send Lance with more supplies once Allura lets them.

Hunk checks his inventory and finds the snacks he packed away on a whim still intact. He's got a few tools in the small satchel hanging off his belt for measuring the magic output. Pidge is counting on him to monitor the barrier from the inside. He takes out some wrapped honey and seed cookies and tells himself to ration this, swearing that the bland, military ration biscuits stay being his last resort.

The man stirs and stares at Hunk, blanket wrapped over his head like a hood. Hunk realises he hasn't had a good look at the man's face yet, and decides to do an introduction.

"Um, hi," says Hunk, looking around for a place to sit. The chair is on the other side of the room and he doesn’t want to get too close to the couch, seeing how the guy’s in a hunched position and looks wary of him.

He stands there, wiggling his fingers in a hello. "I'm Hunk, if you don't remember."

The man nods. "I remember."

"So, I guess...we're going to be together for a while?" says Hunk, scratching his chin with a finger sheepishly.

"Sorry you got trapped here,” says the man. He gets off the couch, gesturing to Hunk. "The bedroom is off-limits, but you can take this couch. There's running water in the back—" he coughs, his voice still raspy as he shivers, his headache not getting any better—”feel free to use whatever you find in here.”

Hunk tilts his head, wondering why it felt like the man was giving him permission to an abandoned house in the forest, but dismisses it as a figure of speech.

"You don't look too good," observes Hunk. "Would you like some food?"

The man stares at him for a while, glassy-eyed, and nods.

Hunk holds out the dry biscuits Pidge passed him. The man reaches out to take it but guilt eats at Hunk for offering the less savoury option. He jerks his hand away and the man looks at him, puzzled.

“Sorry,” says Hunk.

The man just nods and his hand falls away as if not expecting to be given any food.

“No, wait!” says Hunk. The man looks tired but waits.

Hunk had been hoping to save the seed biscuits for himself, but it’s obvious Shiro’s friend here could really use a good cookie more than he does. He steels himself and puts away the bland biscuits option and holds out the tasty cookies.

“You sure?” says the guy, his voice soft and cracked. Hunk nods fervently.

The man takes a biscuit and chews on it, perking up at the taste.

“It’s good,” says the man.

Hunk wonders what to call him. Shiro never did mention his friend’s name. Wait—Lance did point it out. Something like Kee? Could it have been Keith? He knew a Keith back at the Garrison, but they couldn’t be the same guy, could they? Hunk tries to see the man’s face but the blanket’s casting a shadow on him. The man hisses as he puts his weight on his foot and hobbles to the couch to sit back down.

“Oh right,” realises Hunk. “We’ve got to check on your injuries! Shiro mentioned you were hurt.”

“It’s nothing,” mutters the man.

Hunk quickly moves over to the table and takes out the medicine and bandages from his satchel.

“Shiro said you didn’t want to waste our time, but I’m stuck here and I have lots of time, so let’s take a look at your wounds, okay?” says Hunk. He knows a thing or two about being shy, and tries his best to sound comforting. It seems to work as the guy looks up from his blanket, and Hunk swears the guy’s skin isn’t a healthy colour. It looks...purple.

Hunk pulls a chair over and sits facing the couch, pointing at the blanket. The guy growls, but doesn’t resist too much. He lets go of the blanket and it slides off him, pooling around his waist.  
The first thing Hunk notices is something on the side of the man’s dark hair. He reaches out and tugs at it, and the man jolts.

The tuft twitches.

"Rat!" yells Hunk as he jumps to his feel and swats at the dark tuft, no, _tufts_ —there are _two_  of these things—trying to get them off the man's head.

"Ow!" yelps the man, his hands swatting at Hunk’s.

Hunk panics. The rats must be clinging onto his hair. He’s heard stories about crazed magical forest rats. Sure, it had been a children’s tale but there was probably some truth to it. And he’s looking at the said _truth_  here sitting in this guy’s hair.

He grabs both of them with his hands.

He's scared of being bitten, but he has to get them off. The rats feel funny, and he whimpers at the feel of these warm, thin...

"Let go!" yells the man, his hands clawing and pulling at Hunk's wrists. Hunk holds on, refusing to let the strange rats hurt the man further.

"I can't! They're biting you!"

"What?!"

"The rats on your head!"

“What rats?” yells the man.

“These two rats in my hands!” wails Hunk.

"Those are my ears!"

“Eh?” utters Hunk, his hesitation unfurls his hands and allowing the man to pull Hunk’s hands off his head.

“Not rats,” insists the man.

Hunk takes a closer look.

The crumpled tufts nestled on the sides of the man's hair are indeed _not_  rats.

The man cups his twitching ears as Hunk comes closer, not wanting them to be grabbed again.

With a clear look at the man now, Hunk realises the colour of the man's skin wasn't a trick of the light from the window. He really is purple. His eyes are yellow. He’s got ears and the red, bleeding scratches on Hunk’s forearms are from claws, not nails.

"You—you’re Galra!"

 

* * *

  
  
Keith backs away, leaving Hunk frozen in shock, mouth open in surprise and babbling about his physical characteristics.

He knows what he looks like. He knows there's nothing he can do to hide who he is, but he grabs the blanket and pulls it over his head and body, covering what offends. He’s already tucked his tail away, donning a pair of loose pants the new appendage can hide under. His teeth haven’t changed much, but enough to nick his lips when he spoke. His ears feel funny and he can hear more simply by pointing his ears in the right direction.

He tried to muffle it with the blanket and refrained from talking so he could stop thinking about how Galra he looks, but he can’t. Not with someone else in the same house as him.

The pain from his ears is radiating down the sides of his head and neck and he whimpers voicelessly, his throat feeling swollen and blocked. There’s an uncomfortable warmth behind his shoulder, as if one of his wounds threatening to reopen. He doesn’t care about the medicine laid out on the table.

All he wants is to look for a place to disappear to.

He doesn't want to go into the bedroom. It's not a place he wants to stay too long, what with the carved wolves he played with and books that were read to him a long time ago.

The bathroom is too small for him to stay either. The kitchen or the backyard aren't places he can hide.

He remembers an attic spacious enough to be a spare room, but it's probably too dusty since it was used as a storeroom. Still, there's no better place to go. He heads into the kitchen, to a corner where narrow wooden stairs made of planks lead up to a trapdoor of the attic. It creaks and dust falls from the edges as he pushes the door open and flips it over. There's a large enough window to let in light, and pushes himself through, sitting on the floor with his legs dangling through the trap door.

He's more tired than he thinks, and his ears are still throbbing from being grabbed. His neck and shoulders feel sore, and his throat rougher after speaking to Hunk.

The attic’s smaller than he remembers it to be. There are low shelves along the walls, filled with more books and carvings, like a tiny museum. He crawls over to the large window and can't help a hint of a smile tugging the corner of his lips when he sees the row of coloured glass bottles lined up the sill.

He wipes the thin layer of grime off the window with his hand. He doesn't care that his hand is coming away with dust, and doesn't care to open the window to air. More light comes through the window and hits the bottles, the colours spilling over his hand in blue and green and red and yellow. He angles his hand to catch the mix of the last two colours on his upturned palm, enjoying the warmth of his favourite colours.

He sneezes and the dust rises from the floor as if a breeze is blowing through the closed window. It dances around him, small coloured motes of light falling like autumn leaves. There's still a tiny bit of magic left in this place. He doesn't care about his itching nose and the dust as he gives up sitting and lays on his back, playing with the coloured lights, letting them lull him to sleep like falling wisps of fairy lights.

He feels like he's barely slept when the back of a large, cool hand presses against his forehead, then the side of his neck. His tongue feels thick and his ears haven’t stopped burning. He hears the attic’s window being opened and a light breeze being let in. Good to know the barrier doesn’t stop the wind from coming in, he thinks.

Something cold and wet is dragged across his neck and face and rests on his forehead.

He thinks he should wake up for real, but he's aching all over and there's still remnants of a dream he's clinging to he doesn't want to leave behind.

A growl of complaint leaves him, but with his swollen throat, it's more of a broken squeak.

He recognises Hunk being next to him, a large hand cool and soothing to the touch against saying something about him having a fever and having to check his bandages.

The rest is a blur.  


* * *

 

Hunk has done what he could, cleaning and wrapping the infected wound on the back of the guy's shoulder with a bit of medicine he brought with him—he always brought a small medical kit with him knowing the trouble Pidge and Lance always got themselves into. It was barely enough, and he needs something to draw the infection out.

The guy pretty much went limp after Hunk puts the cold towels on him to keep the fever down. Hunk wonders how he's ended up with sort-of half-naked purple, pretty-Galra looking guy with large wolf-like ears in his lap. This has got to be one of the top strangest consequences of being roped into Pidge and Lance's shenanigans.

With the man asleep and showing signs of responding positively to his treatment, he carefully lays his patient back down onto the floor, not before taking off his vest and folding it to pillow his head.

He hears a voice hollering his name and makes his way down, back to the window.

"Hey, buddy," comes Lance's voice through the pipe. “I brought some blueberry pies from that shop you like and stuff Pidge wants you to build and do experiments with.”

"Thanks," breathes Hunk, relieved to hear that Lance has something other than military rations for him. "Can you get me more bandages too?"

"What? Are you hurt?"

"No, no! I'm fine. It's Shiro's friend," says Hunk. “He’s purple—no, that’s not important. He’s hurt.”

"Oh, good," says Lance, then immediately corrects himself, "I mean, bad. But good for him you're around to take care of him!"

"I'll pass you a list," says Hunk, pushing a folded piece of paper through the pipe.

Lance takes it raises a brow at the detailed list.

"Firstly, it’s cool you have a list," says Lance. "Secondly, what the _quiznak_  is this list? It’s like you’re trying to open a bakery here with all these ingredients. Is there even an oven?"

"There's a working stove and everything," says Hunk. "I don't think I can stand another day eating those dry, dust biscuits."

"Point," says Lance.

"Don't take too long, bud," says Hunk.

"Be back as soon as I can," says Lance, clicking his tongue and waving his hand in a casual salute.

Hunk goes back to the attic to check once more on his housemate, who’s sitting up and looking at the damp towel that has fallen onto his lap, half-scowling at the towel like it shouldn't be there.

"Um, hey, you're awake!" says Hunk with a nervous chuckle.

The man glares at him, his pupiless yellow eyes too creepy for Hunk to stare at. Before Hunk could turn away, the man does it first. He brushes his hand over the refreshed bandages around his chest and purses his lips, brow wrinkled in thought.

Hunk tries starting the conversation again with a failsafe topic, "Are you hungry?"

After a moment, the man nods.

"Lance just passed me some pie," says Hunk, holding out a piece of blueberry pie, which the man takes without question, popping it into his mouth and gulping it down like a starved puppy.

"Easy," says Hunk, holding out his hands to calm the guy. "Take it slow, man."

"Thanks," rasps the man, wiping crumbs off his mouth with the back of his hand. Hunk blinks as he sees tapered, scratched claws at the end of the guy's fingers. He resists the urge to back off. The man seems to notice it, grabs the blanket by his side and pulls it over his head to cover his ears.

"Sorry I scratched you earlier. You don't have to come near me if you don’t want to."

"What, no! I want to!" says Hunk, newfound courage welling up from his belly even as his voice stutters and shakes. "I mean, you're sick and I'm going to take care of you."

"I can take care of myself," insists the man, even though he is shivering.

"Let me help. Please," offers Hunk, trying to find a compromise. "I'll get you food and medicine. I won't touch you if you're not okay with it. Though I already have just now while changing your bandages. Sorry!"

"It's just like you to worry over a stranger," says the man, shaking his head and huffing like he knows something Hunk doesn't.

"You should rest on the bed," suggests Hunk. "I checked the bedroom. It looks like it's in good condition."

"No. Stay away from that room."

"Eep," stutters Hunk, backing down the stairs in retreat, hoping the guy's not being pissed at him for overstepping his boundaries. He reminds himself not to go into the bedroom that he’s already checked out once. Maybe twice.

"The couch is yours," says the guy as if it's his permission to give.

 

* * *

 

Keith wonders if Hunk remembers him back from the Garrison. He knows the big guy won't hurt him even if he looks like a Galra. He knows he's only half-Galra, but the purple skin and yellow eyes pretty much scream Galra to anyone looking at him right now.

Sweet, sweet Hunk brought back bedding and pillows, dragging them up the narrow stairs and insisting on helping Keith be comfortable. The fever comes back and Keith finds himself in need of care once more.

His eyes are half closed as he watches Hunk rummaging through his pouch and pulling out small, plain handle the size of two fingers.  
  
"You still have that knife?" chuckles Keith, words slurring as the heat behind his eyes seems to jumble his thoughts.

Hunk raises his brows in question and looks at the contraption he's holding. It looks like a polished little stick the length of his finger. Not even Lance or Pidge knew it was a knife until he showed them the blade unfolding from the wood.

"How did you know it's a knife?"

Keith huffs like it's a silly question. "That's an Arusian folding knife."

"There's only one other guy I know of who knows what this is, and he's the one who gave this to me," says Hunk.

Keith hunches into himself a little more and doesn't say a word. He watched as Hunk silently digs out a potato from his pocket and begins cutting it. Keith thinks he's dreaming because it looks ridiculous. Maybe the whole conversation earlier was just his imagination.

"I know it’s a potato, but I swear this works better than any medicine I have on hand now in helping to draw your infection out," says Hunk, holding up a small napkin with finely chopped potato in it.

"Sure. Whatever," mumbles Keith lazily, and Hunk slaps the potato poultice on his shoulder. He feels less heated up, and there's a cool towel brushing across his face.  
  


_He’s in his old house with Hunk. With that knife he won from a senior in a fight. And a potato._  
  


_It's a weird dream to have_ , thinks Keith.  
  
  
_But it's a nice one._  
  
  
*  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

>   
>  Fooxyou's art for this fic can be found in this post [here](https://thespiritofeon.tumblr.com/post/176577697829/ah-rats-my-responding-piece-for-the-hunk-big)! Please do not repost!! Just go to their tumblr and reblog from there! :)
> 
> There are two parts to this fic and I'll still be editing details and correcting mistakes over the next few days so please be patient with me if you see any inconsistencies/errors!
> 
> Those of you reading and waiting for my other fics to be updated, I assure you I'm working on it! I just had to rush some art and this fic out for the bangs I joined and now I'm pretty much done with all of them, I'll be working on my other Heith fic - [ A Knight And His Dragon](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10589304/chapters/23406498)'s final chapter (and this fic part 2) now! (and my klance/laith fics WIPs) 
> 
> I did some art too for the [Sheith bang](http://amarukei.tumblr.com/post/175913693578) and the [Keith minibang](http://amarukei.tumblr.com/post/175674697598) as well as a [Klance piece](https://www.instagram.com/p/BlRmqeAHgyr/) for the supernova bang, check them out at [my tumblr](http://amarukei.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
